Playing with Ice
by Wizbef
Summary: Jack Frost finally had what he wanted: A family. Love. But when he meets Brooke, he's no longer satisfied. She's a mystery, something he's never experienced. Brooke is just a normal girl. She goes to school, procrastinates all work, acts like she's four, and spends too much time on the internet. Then something happens that changes her life. Or, more specifically, someONE Jack/OC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Before you read this story, I will warn you of a few things. Yes, Jack is frozen in a fourteen-year-olds body instead of a seventeen-year-old. Deal. The producer of the movie himself said that the app is wrong, and Jack was fourteen when he died. Also, there will be swearing, and Brooke is insanely perverted at times.**

**Constructive criticism is welcome, but if you just tell me my story's bad or something, be prepared for the ABSOLUTE WORST Shakespearean insults I can find. And I have other methods of torture *rubs hands together evilly***

**Jack**

It was just another winter morning. Golden rays of light made the fresh layer of snow on the ground sparkle as the sun came up, chasing away the shadows. It was that time of morning where almost nobody is actually up.

A tall, thin boy with silvery-white hair floated along on a breeze, leaving snow and frost everywhere he went. This was his favorite time of day. It just seemed magical. He slowed for a moment, writing his initials into the glass of a window. _JF_

Jack Frost.

To make things even better, Jack was in his favorite place to spend the winter. Michigan. For some reason, the seasons were always more intense there, like the place amplified the magic that caused them. Especially autumn and winter.

As Jack was flying over a neighborhood in one of the smaller towns, something caught his eye. He stopped above a house, looking into the backyard. It was just a normal backyard, flat and well-kept, until you saw what appeared to be the back of the property.

A hill sloped down from the backyard, overgrown with spiny plants and bushes. At the bottom of the slope was a small pond. Jack could tell that it wasn't deep, as the entire thing was frozen. If he lifted it up, he would probably find no water left unfrozen. At the opposite edge of the ice, a small tree without leaves stood, hanging its branches over the frozen pond. Snow covered the entire area.

Jack dropped onto the roof, sitting cross-legged on the rough slope. The marsh was one of the most beautiful places he had seen while covered in snow.

As he scooted forward to get a better view, Jack slipped on a patch of ice that he had formed absentmindedly, tumbling down the roof and onto the snow-covered lawn below. He swore, getting up and brushing off his pants.

He reached for his staff, preparing to leave, but a sound stopped him in his tracks. It seemed to be coming from an open window. Jack tiptoed over to the opening, peeking through the glass to see what was making the noise.

By then he was close enough to hear more clearly. A girl's voice floated through the small opening high and clear. She seemed to be singing. Jack leaned closer, struggling to make out the words through the small opening.

The noise was still slightly muffled, but now he could at least hear the song.

"It's only half past the point of no return. The tip of the iceberg, the sun before the burn, the thunder before the lightning, and the breath before the phrase; Have you ever felt this way?" The girl sang.

Jack slowly slid the window open, hoping that the girl was too preoccupied with her singing to notice.

Yes, he was sneaking into a strange girl's room early in the morning, but she was _singing_ at 5:30 in the morning, and Jack was curious!

The room was obviously a bedroom. There was a bed underneath the window. At the end of the bed, against the wall, a desk was perched. A girl danced around the room, acting like she was performing.

At the moment, her back was turned to Jack, so he could only see her back. Her auburn hair was braided, and she was wearing pink pajamas with frogs printed on them. She looked around ten or eleven. A very tall eleven year old.

Jack sat down on the bed, trying not to laugh at the girl's childish pajamas. He watched for a few more minutes before she turned around, startling him. What if she could see him? What would her reaction be?

Luckily, she looked right through him and continued singing. Now it was a different song, more upbeat.

"Don't try to label me hypocrite, 'cause I will do what I want to. Some will say that I'm counterfeit, but I will be who I want to." She sang, holding an imaginary microphone.

Jack considered throwing a snowball at her, but then he realized that they were inside, AND it was really early in the morning, AND she was alone.

He studied her face. She was pale, her skin covered with freckles. Her eyes were closed, so he couldn't see the color, but he suspected they were brown or green. She was thin, so thin it almost looked like she was starving herself. Now that Jack could see her face, he saw that she wasn't as young as he thought she was. In fact, she looked almost fourteen, like him.

Jack shifted his position of the bed, accidentally causing a creaking noise. The girl stopped singing, looking in his direction. She headed towards him slowly. Even though Jack knew she couldn't see him, he scrambled out the window, ducking down underneath the glass. He could hear her approach the window.

"Why is this open? I could've sworn I shut it last night." She said. The window creaked above him as she shut it.

Jack stood up, peeking in the window once more, only to see the girl staring back at him. He jumped back, but she still couldn't see him. She was just staring out at the snow that came while she was asleep.

He touched the window and watched it freeze over with beautiful patterns. His index finger traced his initials onto the glass. Behind the frosted glass, the girl gasped. She lifted the window to see who was out there, but it was too late.

Jack had already left.

**A/N By the way, the two songs are 'Glitter in the air' by P!nk and 'Hypocrite' by Skye Sweetnam. Check them out, they're both great songs.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything that's copyrighted. But I own Brooke. And the Plot. And some other characters that come in later. **


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything that is copyrighted. I only own the setting, Brooke, and the plot. **

**And the yoga pants that I'm wearing. (Oh wait these aren't mine. Shit.)**

Brooke

_JF._ It had been a week since those letters were drawn in the frost on her window, but Brooke still couldn't stop thinking about it. She wanted to know who wrote the letters, what they _mean_. It was a mystery, and she loved mysteries. Every night, when the frost covered the glass, she would watch, hoping more symbols would appear. It was driving her crazy.

At the moment she was sitting on her bed in her pajamas, a cup of hot chocolate in her hands. Her eyes were trained on the window, watching. But, just like the other nights, the frost on her window was undisturbed.

Suddenly the air around her got slightly colder. The light fog on the window changed to tiny ice crystals that formed patterns on the glass. A fingerprint appeared, disrupting the swirl to draw a new pattern: two letters. More specifically, _JF_.

Brooke scrambled forward, hastily setting her cup on the shelf next to her. She waited for more, but nothing came. Desperate, she took her fingers and wrote a reply.

_Hello?_

New frost covered the first message, and another appeared. _Hi_

Hastily, she scrawled a reply. _Who are you?_

Brooke leaned forward in anticipation. Then the mystery person replied. _You wouldn't believe me if I told you_

She sighed. Of course it wouldn't be so easy. She drew an angry face before underlining her question.

A laugh. Someone definitely laughed.

The conversation disappeared, replaced by new frost. Then two words appeared. _Jack Frost_

Brooke rolled her eyes. _Sure you are,_ she replied.

The reply came quickly. _Want proof?_

_Sure. _She replied.

_Open the window_

She hesitated, unsure if this was a trick. The mystery person underlined the request, using her own trick against her. _That does it,_ she thought.

She opened the window.

Realizing no one was there, Brooke sighed. Then a cold breeze rushed past her, and she fell back. The window closed. More frost covered it, and new words appeared. _I'm not a liar. Turn around._

She obeyed, turning her body around to face the middle of the room. Her jaw dropped. It was snowing. In her room. Snow was falling from the ceiling in her room.

_He really is Jack Frost_.

As soon as she thought it, a boy of about fourteen appeared in front of her. He had silvery-white hair, like snow in the light of a full moon. He was tall and thin, with smooth, pale skin. His feet were bare, and he was wearing brown pants and a blue hoodie. Cute. Sexy. Perfect. Not what you'd imagine Jack Frost to look like.

"You… you were telling the truth?" Brooke stammered, eyes wide.

"Yes! You can see me! It worked!" Jack exclaimed. When Brooke stayed silent, he spoke again. "Um… Hi?"

"What do you mean, it worked? Why couldn't I see you before?"

"Well…" Jack trailed off. "It's a long story."

Brooke sat down on her bed and patted the mattress next to her. "If I'm correct, I won't have to go to school tomorrow if I listen." She raised an eyebrow at him and he laughed, sitting next to her and launching into an explanation.

When Brooke woke up the next morning, Jack was gone. They had talked late into the night, and the last thing she could remember was watching him fly out her window, promising a snow day the next day as he went. For a moment, the memories faded, and she wondered if Jack Frost had been a dream. Surely someone like _that_ couldn't have been real. She sat up, her fingers grasping for her phone to check the time. They brushed against something smooth and cold, and she held it up so she see it.

The object was a small flower, carved from ice. It was about an inch across, and the detail was astonishing. It looked as if somebody had transformed a flower into ice.

Immediately all doubts about whether or not Jack Frost existed left her mind. Brooke fingered the delicate petals, marveling at how real they felt. After staring at it for a few minutes, she got up and gently placed on a high shelf, so that nothing could reach it. Once her fingers left the flower, she turned around and found herself looking out the window.

Snow piled up outside, reaching almost a foot deep, judging from the back porch. Brooke smiled. Jack had kept his promise.

**A/N Oh my gods, I loved writing that chapter. I promise I'll be writing more often, so no more week and a half waits between chapters. I have a few things I want to say.**

**First off, the flower. Imagine it however you want to, I'm not going to go all you-must-think-of-it-this-way on you. Personally, I imagined it looking something like a cross between a lily and a cartoon flower. Made of ice. Also, there is not any hidden symbolism in the flower, it's just a flower left so she doesn't think it was a dream. Maybe.**

**Second, OMG THAT FROST ON WINDOW CONCERSATION. I don't know about you, but I LOVED THAT SHIT. IT WAS SO FUN TO WRITE AND VISUALIZE.**

**Btw, please review. I keep forgetting to ask and nobody actually reviews. PLEASE! It'll give me motivation to post sooner, just sayin'. **

**Please.**


End file.
